Teen Angel
by hearmewhenisayibelieve
Summary: Based on the old doowop/rock song "Teen Angel." Rachel/Quinn in the '50s.


**This is based on the song "Teen Angel" as performed by Mark Dinning. I strongly urge to you WAIT until after reading this story to listen to the song. In fact, I use whatever powers I have as author of this story to demand that you not listen until you've finished. I don't own the song or Glee.**

She laughed as Rachel coughed dramatically. The actress had been trying to get her to quit smoking since she'd caught Quinn behind the diner when she was bringing the trash out two years ago. Rachel had worked the dinner rush all through high school after Glee got out, trying to save up for her move to New York City after graduation.

"Look, all the smoke's curling out the window, I don't see the problem."

"The problem," Rachel began indignantly, "is that you are an athlete and you are _destroying_ your precious lungs that you absolutely need to shout cheers and breath properly with when you do all your tumbles and cartwheels and dancing and…"

Quinn quirked an eyebrow and made a show of bringing the cigarette back to her lips, leaving behind a faint trace of the fire engine red lipstick she'd stolen from the five and dime on a dare from Santana. She dangled her arm out the window, closed her eyes, and pushed back against her seat, the smoke spilling out of her mouth with a tired sigh.

"See! The smoke from your mouth is filling this car, poisoning the air between the two of us, and is currently circuiting through _my_ precious lungs and you know that my voice is _everything_ to me and the only way I'm ever getting out of this town and…"

Quinn's eyes were still closed, but her lips were pulled into a faint smirk. She looked as though she couldn't be bothered, and, even though she felt she was right, Rachel couldn't stay angry. She shifted back in her seat and looked around. Quinn called her car "Baby" and the blonde's love for the automobile showed, though it didn't run as well as when she first got it. The leather seats were shiny, the carpeting vacuumed, and the mirrors placed just so, but Quinn hadn't had much time to get any of the engine issues fixed up, since she spent most of her time with Rachel or at cheer practice. Rachel's eyes closed as she pushed further back into the leather, and she drifted back to that night at the diner.

* * *

(Two years ago)

"Ugh, this is disgusting. How do I always get stuck with the trash?" Rachel huffed as she dragged two large black plastic bags and slammed on the bar to the back door of Johnny's. It hit the brick wall outside with a THUNK and she heard a shout.

"Hey! Watch out, pal!"

Rachel gasped at the sound. She'd always hated taking out the trash, not because of the garbage itself, but because the back of Johnny's led out into an alley and she was convinced that all sorts of unsavory types lurked there, waiting for her to linger just a little too long tossing the days refuse in the dumpster.

Rachel turned around violently to see a mildly pissed Quinn Fabray, leather jacket covering her red and white uniform, and a cigarette nonchalantly hanging in her perfectly manicured hand at her side. Even startled and angry, Quinn managed to keep a thin layer of disinterest over any emotion she showed.

"Well now, I know I'm a knockout, but didn't you come out here to toss that garbage?"

Rachel immediately blushed as she realized she'd just been staring at Quinn for who knows how long. Muttering something about "trespassing" and "years off my life", Rachel set out dragging the bags to the dumpster. Quinn sighed with annoyance at the girl's struggle, tossed her cigarette to the ground and crushed it with her foot. She walked over to Rachel and pulled the bags out of her hands. Quinn threw one over her left shoulder and picked the other clean off the ground with her right hand. She walked a quick, precise path to the dumpster and tossed the bags in it with only the smallest grunt of effort. Rachel stood lamely by the door, too shocked to be upset.

"How…?" she started feebly before hanging her head, embarrassed.

"Years of tossing ladies over your head teaches you a few things. Daddy's angry about it all, says that my muscles take away from my _God-given femininity_. But ever since the Yale squad sent their letter of interest after I was named captain freshman year, he's had to stick it in his hat." She chuckled, but it was more harsh than light-hearted.

Rachel offered a smile and a slightly more confident "Thanks" before trained her eyes back onto her white Mary Jane's. She saw a flit of movement and noticed the ashes of Quinn's cigarette pushed along by a little swirl of wind. Before Quinn could get out a "No problem" Rachel was back to her loud self.

"You know those'll kill you right? I read it in Daddy's paper. You really ought not to smoke, Quinn. Think of your future! Soon you'll be addicted to who knows what, getting your fix from who knows who!"

Quinn's laugh was open and genuine now. Cursing herself for letting her emotional veil slip, she relaxed her features and looked pointedly at Rachel.

"You honestly think I'll end up a drug addict? _Me_?" Quinn stared into Rachel's eyes. The girls had never been friends, but they were never enemies either. They just ran in different circles. Quinn, with Brittany and Santana, was McKinley royalty, a member of the cheer squad and Future Homemakers of America club secretary. Rachel was a bookworm, fiercely dedicated to her studies, and president of the Glee Club. She sang whenever she got the chance: school musicals, in the dive bars out on the edge of town, pep rallies with the Glee kids, and anytime she was alone. She wasn't unpopular as much as unimportant, another face in the masses of the Midwest teen population.

Quinn was staring right at her, but Rachel didn't feel uncomfortable. Her eyes were soft and kind, and Rachel could finally relax. She let out a chuckle of her own, smoothed her hands on her apron and broke into a warm smile. "No, I guess not."

Quinn nodded with an air of superiority, but Rachel wasn't gonna let her off too easy.

"You still shouldn't smoke. It really is bad for you."

Quinn looked as though she understood. "Thanks for the concern, Berry, but I don't do it that often. Just when I'm stressed or nervous or…" she trailed off. Shit, thought Quinn. Why the hell did I say that?

Rachel was surprised at the frankness with which Quinn spoke. "I guess I can understand that. What are you stressed about?"

Quinn, taken aback that Rachel would even care, decided to continue the conversation. "It's my Dad. He said that if I didn't bring my grades up in English he'd take my Baby away."

"Your…Baby?"

"My car, Rachel, geez. See?" She tilted her head to the end of the alley closest to the street, where Rachel could make out the faint outline of a car in the streetlamp light. "Baby's my only escape from this podunk shithole, even if I'm just sitting in it outside my house. It's the only place I can be myself."

Rachel, after gasping that _the_ Quinn Fabray just cursed in front of her, thought that what the cheerleader had said was pretty sad. Sure, she didn't have the high school fame that Quinn had, but she had a very loving home to grow up and thrive in. She couldn't remember a time when she wasn't being herself, save for the times she was playing the role of someone else at the Lima Community Revue. Not one to let others sit in their melancholy, Rachel decided to offer her help.

"Well, I can tutor you in English, if you'd like. I've got an A+ and I hardly even try!"

Quinn laughed again. Only Rachel Berry could turn an offer of help into a bragging session. But, as she looked at the earnest girl, the boss of who (_Whom? Which? She really could use that English help) _would probably come looking for her any minute, Quinn knew that this could work out.

"If it keeps me and Baby together, I'll do anything."

Rachel's squeal of delight was drowned out by the THUNK of the back door opening again.

"Hey, kid, we're closing up. Chuck me your apron, here's your stuff." Johnny, the manager, lightly tossed Rachel's backpack and jacket over to her as she slipped the apron over her head and handed it back. He eyed Quinn warily, who just stared through him with her nonplussed attitude. "You still gonna need that ride?"

Quinn piped up, "She's good. I'll bring her home."

Johnny laughed in disbelief. "Oh yeah? Whatcha rollin' on, kid?"

Quinn laughed right back and flicked her eyes down the alley to her car. "Pristine '54 Chevy Bel-Air. Love that car more than I love anything."

Johnny let out a long whistle through his front teeth. "Dang, chickie. I'd leave my wife for those kinda wheels! Shoot, I love that car and I've only just met her."

Quinn smiled, happy to have someone understand her appreciation of her sanctuary. "Yeah well, get lost. That there's my Baby and she's all mine."

Johnny laughed one last time as he shut the back door with a quick "See ya, ladies!" to Quinn and Rachel.

"Thanks very much, Quinn. You didn't have to offer to drive me home."

"And you didn't have to offer to tutor me. Come on."

Quinn grabbed Rachel's hand to lead her to the car and it was the smoothest thing the blonde had ever touched. Stop thinking about it, Quinn told herself. Rachel looked up at Quinn and smiled as they walked to the car. She kept on smiling as Quinn opened the door for her and told her she could pick the station on the radio.

_"Darling, youuuu send me, I know yooouuuu send me, Darling yoouuuuu send me. Honest you do, honest you do, honest you do."_

Rachel couldn't help but sing along to the first song that came on. "Don't you just love Sam Cooke?"

Quinn, who'd been enjoying Rachel's company and lovely voice, answered back, "Yeah, he's good. Don't really pay much attention to the voices, but the stories are what get me. Your voice is different, though. You sing just like an angel."

_SHIT. Again with the revelations, _Quinn said to herself._ What is it about this girl that makes me say this mushy fluff?_

Rachel was completely floored by the innocent compliment, and felt an interesting flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with the smooth glide of the Chevy on Lima's backroads. "Thank you very much for saying so, Quinn. This is it, right here." Rachel pressed her finger up against the glass of the window a few times to point out her house. Normally, such a smudge would be severely punished, and Quinn had had no qualms kicking either of her best friends out of her car for similar crimes, but she couldn't bring herself to be angry as Rachel started singing again after giving her directions to Quinn.

Quinn brought the car to a stop and made a move to get out to help Rachel out of the car. Rachel placed her hand on Quinn's arm to stop her and felt the flutter again. Quinn turned back around, concerned, only to be met with an uncharacteristically shy Rachel Berry, eyes downcast and a corner of her bottom lip tugged behind her teeth.

_Angel_, thought Quinn again, as Rachel said softly, "We should plan a date."

Quinn sputtered out something resembling "What, huh, what?" Rachel laughed, all shyness gone, at the blonde's lack of a coherent response.

"Wow, your English really _is_ terrible," she teased coyly. "A date for me to tutor you, or a few for that matter. There's not much time left in the semester before summer."

Quinn, determined to salvage just a speck of her former coolness, replied curtly, "Sure. Thanks, really. Sounds great. Just let me know tomorrow at school." She moved quickly again, getting out of the car and crossing around the front to get to Rachel's side. She opened it, let Rachel out, and shut the door gently. Quinn tried to head right back to the driver's side, but Rachel stopped her again. _All right, those are __definitely__ butterflies_, thought Quinn desperately. _What in the Hell is wrong with me?_

"Thanks for all the help with the trash bags, earlier. You really are quite strong. I'll check my schedule and return to you first thing tomorrow with a list of plausible dates and locations for our tutoring sessions. And of course you'll have to bring your books along, so perhaps it'd be best to meet on school days when you already have your work with you and"

To this day, if you asked Quinn what happened, she'd swear it was angels that pushed her sneakered feet forward and her own lips onto Rachel's incessantly moving ones. After a brief gasp of shock, Rachel responded with such a stereotypical Rachel Berry enthusiasm that Quinn, terrified of what all this meant, still managed to quirk a small smile as she pulled out of the kiss as tenderly as possible.

Rachel's eyes were shining, her pastel pink lipstick smudged and worn, and a dazed, if not still surprised look on her face. "Well then. That was lovely."

Quinn, who, after a quick glance at Rachel had turned her head down and began fiddling with the frayed ends of her cheer skirt nervously, stopped abruptly and brought her head back up. "Really? You're not…I dunno…angry? Upset?" She stopped a beat and said, much softer, "Disgusted?"

Rachel shook her head. "No. I'm sure surprised, but that's about it. Oh and happy. And tingly." She giggled softly. "But no, not angry. And certainly not disgusted, Quinn!"

Quinn, still unsure, continued. "But, it's wrong, right? We can't…we're not…Pastor Joe says…"

Rachel chuckled, "Well, I won't tell if you won't. I like you, Quinn, and I have no idea who the heck Pastor Joe is, but I don't care what he says. You've been nothing but kind to me and I've felt this pull toward you this whole evening. Much more than I've ever felt with the boys who Kurt's been bringing to the drive-in for me."

"Really?" Quinn had felt that "pull" too, but she'd call it more of a push. I guess if Rachel was all right with everything, they could see where all of this went. And there was still the feeling that it was meant to be, that she'd had some divine intervention to help her out. How could that be if God didn't approve? She'd have to reread her Bible again before Sunday, Quinn decided. "Okay, I guess. See you tomorrow, then?"

Rachel smiled and pulled an off-guard Quinn in for a quick peck. "Tomorrow. Bye, Quinn dear!"

Rachel had skipped almost all the way to her front door before she heard Quinn call back, "Good Night, Angel!"

* * *

(Present)

"Good Morning, Angel."

Quinn's low voice broke Rachel out of her little daydream. The sun had started to go down, and the late evening sun filled the car with a warm glow. Quinn had parked Baby on the old tracks outside of town, in a spot where Santana had told her had the best views in all Ohio—as if that meant anything, really, she thought staring at miles of flat land.

Rachel smiled, but could still smell the smoke on Quinn's breath. She remembered her dream and turned to face Quinn. "What are you so nervous about? You hardly ever smoke anymore."

Quinn's face shifted, all playfulness gone, and a worry line creased her delicate forehead. "I've got something to ask you."

Rachel, now feeling nervous herself, decided to jump right in. "Shoot. You know you can ask me anything, love."

Quinn's hands were shaking and the sheen of sweat that had begun to appear on her palms only made the action more difficult, but, after three tries, she managed to pull her simple silver and ruby class ring off her ring finger. The sun had set now, but the late spring heat still filled the inside of the car. Baby, which had always been her escape, now felt like a suffocating coffin. Very slowly, Quinn took Rachel's hand and turned it palm up. She placed her ring in the middle of Rachel's hand and closed her fingers around it. "Will you take my ring? I mean, I know we can't tell anyone, and I sure as Hell know we can't get married but I just…I want you to have it."

Rachel looked into Quinn's eyes, and a single tear was making its way down her cheek.

_SHIT_, thought Quinn. _Well, that's it. You blew it._ Taking Rachel's silence negatively, Quinn stiffened her lip and steeled her resolve. She took her ring back and placed it on the dashboard. "Forget it. Forget I said anything. Never mind."

Rachel, shocked, grabbed the collar of Quinn's cheer uniform and pulled her in for a searing kiss. Quinn could feel the wetness of Rachel's tears and thought that this was Rachel's way of saying goodbye. Well, if that were true, Quinn was going to make the absolute best of it. As the separation of the front seats proved too much of a barrier, Rachel pushed herself into the backseat, pulling Quinn along by the hand, and guiding the blonde to lay on top of her.

Quinn thought that this was getting a bit much for a goodbye. In fact, if this was it, this frenzied passion bordered on flat-out cruelty. She started to say as much.

"Hey, Rach. If this is your way of saying you want us to stop all this, I have to say that it is outright malevolent." Those English tutoring sessions taught her a few things before they turned into intensive lessons in female anatomy.

Rachel looked up at Quinn and laughed loudly. _Well, now that's just mean._

"Hey! I mean it! Don't be a jerk! So you don't want my ring and you don't want me, that's fine! You don't need to laugh at me."

Rachel pulled Quinn down into another bruising kiss, gently teasing her tongue alongside Quinn's. When she broke the embrace, Rachel wasted no time explaining herself. "Geez, dear. You didn't give me a minute. Of course, I'd love to wear your ring. You are my own true love. Now and forever. New York, Ohio, anywhere. I love you, Quinn."

Those words, this _girl_. Surely, thought Quinn, this is the happiest moment of my life. She was broken out of her reverie by the loud, long whistle of a train.

"Shit! Shit! Rachel, come on! Get back to the front!"

Quinn pulled Rachel as quickly as she could over the and into the front seat. Baby was now shaking with the rumbles of the oncoming train and Quinn twisted her keys as fast as she could to start the car. _RRVVV RVVVFF Rvvvvfff. _Nothing. The car was stalled. "No! No! No! Baby, come on, Baby, you'll be crushed!" Quinn was desperate to save her car, her escape.

The whistle sounded again and Quinn turned quickly to Rachel, who, though visibly terrified, had put all her trust in Quinn and was trying to remain calm as she leaned her head against the glass of the window, faintly singing. In an instant, Quinn remembered that first night after the diner, when she couldn't have cared less about the window smudge Rachel's pointing finger had left behind. Realizing that what was _in_ her car was far more important than the vehicle itself, Quinn flung her door open, and ran around to Rachel's side. Just as she'd done with the trash bag two years ago, she threw a trembling Rachel over her shoulder and started to run away from the tracks as quickly as possible. She got about ten feet away when Rachel wriggled her way free, causing Quinn to fall over, hitting her head hard on the ground.

"Wait up! Just wait! I'll be right back!"

Rachel turned the opposite way and ran _toward_ Baby. Startled and dazed from her fall, Quinn stumbled almost drunkenly to her feet, but her voice never waivered in strength. "RACHEL! COME BACK! COME BACK!"

Quinn tried to follow Rachel, but the world started to spin, and her vision blurred. The sound of the whistle was deafening and her head felt as though it was splitting right along its seams, but still Quinn shouted. "COME BACK! COME BACK!"

Before her eyes shut one last time, Quinn saw Rachel fling open the door and start to search for something on the dash. She saw her angel smile in triumph and drop to the floor, and that same moment the train collided with a terrible crunch into the only true escape she'd ever known. And, as she succumbed to the darkness, Quinn realized that it'd been a long time since Baby had held that title.

* * *

Staring at a mound of dirt, everything felt more final. Everyone had already left for the reception, but Quinn stayed behind. Fiddling with her cheer skirt, she tossed her last pack of cigarettes on top of the pile of flowers propped up against the stone.

"Sorry about my voice. You know the only one I ever cared about was yours. I only liked the stories, remember?" Quinn laughed sadly. "Now, this is ours."

Softly, Quinn began to sing.

_Teen angel, teen angel, teen angel,_

_That fateful night the car was stalled, up on the railroad track_  
_I pulled you out and we were safe, but you went running back_

_Teen angel, can you hear me?_  
_Teen angel, can you see me?_  
_Are you somewhere up above?_  
_And am I still your own true love?_

_What was it you were looking for, that took your life that night?_  
_They said they found my high school ring, clutched in your fingers tight._

_Teen angel, can you hear me?  
Teen angel, can you see me?  
Are you somewhere up above?  
And am I still your own true love?_

_Just sweet sixteen, and now you're gone.  
They've taken you away.  
I'll never kiss your lips again.  
They buried you today._

_Teen angel, can you hear me?  
Teen angel, can you see me?  
Are you somewhere up above?  
And am I still your own true love?_

_Teen angel, teen angel, answer me, please?_

**AN: Yeah, I'm really sorry about this but, you know when you get an idea in your head you've got to get it down. I plan on writing a series of Quinn/Rachel fics set to some of my favorite doowop/rock songs from the 1950's. They won't be related in content, just in general premise. And, of course, as is custom in our Faberry-loving-lives, the angst comes first. If you're a doowop/rock buff, you probably could've figured out where this was going by the title. Again, song is "Teen Angel" performed by Mark Dinning. R/R!**


End file.
